Flying High
by Midst Ride
Summary: Oneshot. Joe Hardy thinks he can fly, and Frank has to stop him before he does something stupid. Young Hardys.


Oneshot

Twoshot. Joe Hardy thinks he can fly, and Frank has to stop him before he does something stupid. Young Hardys.

A/N: I know I promised to write a sequel to A Tale Of Two Brothers (albeit a brief one!). But I was inspired for this.

--

"Guess what, Frank!" 8-year-old Joe Hardy shoved a handful of his aunt's cookies in his mouth as he turned towards his older brother.

"What?" 9-year-old Frank asked, looking at Joe, who was wearing his red superhero cape and a cap.

"You won't bel've what we learned in school today," Joe replied with a grin. "We learned about birds. And they saided all birds can't fly! That's a lie, right?"

"No, the ostrich can't fly, Joe," Frank countered. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, and he frowned. "Uh, Joe?"

"Yes?" Joe asked as he picked up his milk and drank the whole thing in almost two swallows.

"What are you _doing_?" he asked, looking at his brother.

"Disapproving the teacher's theory," Joe said with a smile. "She saided humans couldn't fly. So I'm going to go to the park and fly! Will you come with me?"

"Joe, the teacher's right," Frank said with a roll of his eyes. "You _can't_ fly."

"You're just too old to believe in magic," Joe retorted, sticking out his tongue, "so of course _you_ won't fly!"

Frank groaned as he surveyed his brother's outfit. "Joe, humans can't fly. It's scientifically impossible."

"Fine!" Joe huffed, sticking his arms on his hips. "Come watched me do it, and I'll proved you wrong!"

Closing his eyes in exasperation, he said, "Joe, do you really think this is a good idea? I mean, what would Mom say?"

"I think Mommy would let me try it," Joe said, sticking his tongue out again. "And I'm going to tried it whether you helped me or not!"

"Okay, okay," Frank replied, hoping he could talk Joe out of trying 'it' when he got to the park. "You want to try, let's go to the park."

--

Joe grinned as he got to the park, still wearing his superhero cape. "I want to jump off that tree," he said, looking at the highest tree in the in the park. "Will you help me climb up?"

"No!" Frank crossed his arms and looked at him. "Joe, if you dump off that tree," he said logically, "You'll get hurt badly."

"I'm _not _going to get hurt, Frank!" Joe protested, crossing his arms and glaring at him angrily.

"Yes, you are," Frank replied. "Look, Joe, if if climbed the tree, I'd get hurt—and so would you."

"But you're to olded to do it," Joe protested again. "Let me try."

"You want me to get killed?" Frank demanded, crossing his arms. He spun around and saw Chet. He turned back and saw Joe starting to climb the tree. "Chet, give me your cell phone – _now_!"

--

Fenton Hardy hadn't been expecting the call. He was almost finished writing a repot on his current case—which he had solved. It had actually been pretty easy, all things considered, but still, he hated cases where one person was hurting another. That was why he solved them.

Shuffling the papers, he picked up his desk phone and put it to one ear. "Hey, Frank."

"Dad," Frank said in an exasperated tone, "didn't you telled Joe that he couldn't climb the big tree in the park?"

"Yes, I did. What's wrong?" he asked, not missing the tone of 'big-brother' protection in his son's voice.

"He's climbing it," Frank replied. Fenton could picture his eldest squatting his brother squinting at his brother. "They learned about birds in school today and he thinks he can fly."

Fenton drew in a breath and closed his eyes in exasperation. "Okay. I'll be right there. Just try and keep him from doing anything stupid, okay?"

--

Frank hung up the phone. "Thanks, Chet. Tell your parents I made the call if they have a problem."

Chet grinned. "You better believe I will. What's he doing?"

"He thinks he can fly," Frank said with a groan and shook his head. "I don't know what the heck he's thinking."

"Relax, Frank. It's a stage. Everyone thinks they can fly at one point," Phil said as he came up to the two friends. "Who thinks he can fly?"

"Joe," Frank replied as he pointed up to the branches. "Joe, get down here! We're going to be late to dinner!"

"Not hungry!" Joe yelled back, sticking out his tongue at Frank. He almost lost his grip, then, and only because he grabbed the branch above his head did he save himself.

"Get _down_ there, Joe!" Frank demanded, yelling up at his brother. "You know Dad said not to climb up there!"

"Daddy won't be mad when I learn how to fly," Joe yelled back, looking at his brother. "It'll saved him money on gas."

"Yeah, but not on the doctor's visit he's going to have to pay! Get _down_ here!"

"No!" Joe yelled back again. "You can't telled me what to do, Frank!"

"Phil, yell up the statistics of how many people fly," Frank whispered to his friend.

"Nobody can fly, Joe! No human has ever successfully completed their attempt!"

"I'll succeeded and then you'll all be sorry!" Joe yelled back.

Fenton Hardy raced to the scene. His office was only a block away, but he'd gotten into his Porsche and sped all the way there. "Where's Joe?" he demanded, his face red from being breathless.

"Up there," Frank pointed directly at his brother. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken him to the park."

"Relax, Frank, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known that he was going to do this."

"But I _did_," Frank wailed, "and now it's my fault!"

"It's not your fault, it's Joe's fault. Relax, buddy." Fenton sighed as he looked up. "Joseph Hardy, get down from there! What on earth are you _thinking_?"

"I'm going to fly, Daddy!"

"Didn't I tell you never to climb that tree? Please get down!"

"Daddy, I'm going to fly!" Joe replied, climbing up to the top, final branch. "Look, Daddy, Daddy, I'm going to flyed!"

"Joseph, _no_!" Fenton yelled, racing towards the tree, his arms outstretched. The other boys followed after him. Fenton wasn't quick enough, but managed to catch part of him before his head hit the ground. "Joseph, what in heaven's name did you think you were doing?"

"I was goin' to fly," Joe whispered, tears running down his face. "I dunno what happened, Daddy, but I can't fly well. I'm sorry."

Fenton ran his hand through his hair in frustration as he looked at the ground. "Joe, we're going to have to go to the hospital and check you out. I think your leg might be broken."

"No hospital!" Joe shrieked, looking angrily at Fenton. Frank winced. The last that Joe had been in the hospital, he'd been kidnapped from the room—all because his father had turned his back for a split second.

"Relax, Joe, you can hold onto me or Frank the whole time, okay?"

Slowly, Joe winced and nodded, looking at him. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly. "I'm sorry."

--

_LATER_

"He just practically fell out of the tree," Frank told the doctor with a look of amusement. "Phil and Chet were there too."

Dr. Bates smiled. "When I was seven, I thought I could fly, too. I learned the hard way—just like Joe. Are you okay, Frank?"

Frank sighed and shrugged. "Not really."

"Why not?"

"I feel like it's my fault. I letted Joe go to the park," he explained. He paused, then frowned. "I let Joe go to the park," he corrected himself. "And I _knew_ he was going to try and fly."

"This isn't your fault. I understand why you feel this way, but it's really not. Next time he wants to fly, you can always remind him of this time. Joe broke his leg, but there would have been much worse damage if you hadn't called your Dad and had him come to the rescue. You were very smart, Frank."

"Are you sure?" Frank questioned.

"I'm positive, Frank. And every seven-year-old likes to fly sometimes, so ease up on Joe a little, okay? I've got to talk to your Dad, but I wanted to talk to you first. You'll be a good big brother, Frank."

"You really think so?" Frank's eyes shined at the unsuspected compliment.

"I don't think so, Frank. I know so."

--

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